


Like A Prayer

by Cliophilyra



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Implied Masturbation, M/M, Or not, Prayer, Showers, Why Dean should lock the door
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:06:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1950960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliophilyra/pseuds/Cliophilyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel answers an urgent prayer from Dean but it's not quite what he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like A Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> I am having a clear out of stuff I've had in progress for a while so here's another short one :)  
> Not Beta Read  
> Tell me what you think! :)

With a rustle of feathers Castiel appears in the dingy motel room. He looks about him in confusion. It is like hundreds of others he has seen, there is the usual neatly made beds, aged TV and threadbare 70’s furniture.

Dean’s urgent prayer to him is ringing in his head but the hunter is nowhere to be seen. He frowns and cocks his head, catching the faint sound of running water. There is a door to one side of the room, Dean must be in there. Without thinking he pushes open the door…

Inside the tiny, shabby bathroom the sound of water is white noise. The mildewy off-white shower curtain is not pulled across all the way and he can see Dean through the steam, standing in the bath with his back to him, head bowed under the less than powerful shower, one hand braced against the shiny tiled wall. The water has flattened his short hair and streams down over his powerful shoulders, the muscles of his back and his ass.

Cas finds his eyes following the course of the rivulets as they run over Dean’s smooth skin and he gives a small hiss, partly with the realisation that he probably shouldn’t have come in - this is definitely one of those personal space things that Dean is always going on about - but also, to his surprise, at the sight of Dean naked and dripping wet. He feels a warmth spreading through his body that he is not entirely familiar with. His throat is suddenly dry and he coughs with an odd strangled sound.

Dean spins around, slipping, almost falling before he grabs at the wall to steady himself. Cas’ eyes widen as he is suddenly confronted with Dean in all of his not inconsiderable glory. What is perhaps most striking is not the fact that he is naked, which is really to be expected of someone taking a shower, but the fact that his cock is hard, bobbing in front of his firm stomach and that his hand is wrapped around it, or had been before he slipped.

‘Dude, what the fuck!’ Dean exclaims, grabbing the shower curtain in a belated attempt to cover himself.

‘Hello Dean,’ Cas says quietly, unable to look away, ’I apologise, I heard you call for me, it sounded…urgent..I was afraid you were in danger.’

Dean stares at him and then closes his eyes, taking a stuttering breath, ‘You...heard…oh...ok.’

‘I see you are not however.’ Cas feels the heat climbing inexorably toward his face, ‘So I will go.’

They stare at each other unblinking, for what feels like whole minutes. ‘Cas?’ Dean raises his eyebrows, his face feels like it may spontaneously combust any minute.

‘Right,’ Cas blinks and turns abruptly, opening the door and walking back into the motel room, closing the door behind him. He stands in the middle of the room, brow furrowed and stares unseeingly at the hideous carpet, attempting to process what just happened.

Dean stands under the cascading water staring blankly as his mind flounders and his whole body burns with embarrassment. He looks down, realising that despite his shock he is still hard. He shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts and breathes out shakily, forcing himself to think deeply unsexy thoughts as he turns off the water and gets out of the shower. He is never, ever going to live that down. Not that he thinks Cas would bring it up, or be pissed, he probably won’t even mention it, but that may be worse. He will just know and Dean will know that he knows and how is he ever supposed to look him in the eye again?

What is the alternative though? Talking about it? Fuck no! What do you even say to your best friend who caught you jerking off over him in the shower? Dean is not equipped to deal with this. He huffs a short bitter laugh as he wraps himself in a towel, which is now only slightly tented at the front. He catches sight of himself in the steamed up mirror and almost laughs again at the shell-shocked expression that looks back at him.

 

Cas is still staring at the carpet, listening to the clamour inside his own head. He is not an idiot or a child. He has watched humanity for aeons, he knows about Human sexuality, at least in theory. However he has had little first hand experience, so to speak, and it has never been important enough to him to be bothered with before. Suddenly though he is very bothered, by how he felt looking at Dean, what he wanted to do, what Dean was doing and the significance of Dean’s prayer to him, consciously or unconsciously, in that situation.

He loves Dean, but as an Angel he loves all humans, it is his job to love them. He has gradually become aware that what he feels for Dean is somewhat different though, more profound; but then he did raise him from Hell and Dean saved him from Heaven.

He thinks about everything that he has sacrificed for this man, just because he asked him to. Would he do that for the others?

Of course. 

Really? He sighs. Well, what to do about it? He should talk to Dean but he knows Dean won’t want to talk. Perhaps it’s best just to ignore it, pretend he hadn’t noticed He will do whatever makes Dean comfortable.

 

Dean stares into the clear, wet centre of the mirror where his fingers have streaked the condensation. He grasps the edge of the sink and closes his eyes tight, his heart hammering. He sees Cas’ face, that inquisitive squint as if he is trying to see into your soul, which he probably is. He probably knows already, Dean thinks, probably knew before I did. In which case, what am I trying to hide? Who am I trying to kid? 

Well, if he did know he’s never shown it, never indicated he feels the same. Except..it suddenly dawns on Dean that he has, all the friggin’ time. The way he stands too close, that makes Dean feel short of breath and hot and cold at the same time and so disorientated that he barks at him, tells him to move. The way he comes when Dean calls, saves him; fights for him; kills for him; dies for him.

When Dean opens his eyes the reflection in the mirror is smiling.

So, what to do about it? Be brave? Tell him? Throw yourself off that cliff and see if he catches you? Like he always does. 

Who knows though, how it will be when he next sees him? In this moment his heart is in charge and he wants to take that jump but when his head is back in control there will be a million reasons to stop before the precipice. What would Sam think? Cas is not even Human; Dean can’t face the possibility of rejection; can’t expose Cas to the possibility that he may hurt him; Cas is too good for him; Dean doesn’t deserve happiness; love will weaken him etc. etc.

The smile in the mirror fades away, Dean turns sadly and opens the bathroom door.

 

Cas looks up from his contemplation of the floor as the door opens.

Dean pulls up short when he sees the Angel, ‘Cas, you’re still here?’

Cas looks around himself vaguely. ‘Yes.’ He agrees, as if he’d only just noticed.

‘Right, um ok,’ Dean rubs the back of his neck self-consciously, ‘did you want something?’

‘Yes,’ Cas says emphatically and then looks slightly surprised as if he hadn’t expected to say that.

They look at each other for a moment, brilliant green meeting cobalt blue until Dean blinks. ‘Look Cas,’ He starts, ‘I’m sorry.’

'What for?’

‘Well, uh, you know,’ Dean waves his hand vaguely in the direction of the bathroom door. ‘I didn’t mean for you to…uh.’

‘Didn’t you?’ Cas suddenly looks up, directly into Dean’s eyes, head on one side. ‘You know I always come when you pray to me Dean.’

‘I didn’t..I wasn’t...’ Dean flushes, pink darkening his face and neck and creeping down his chest, ‘It wasn’t a prayer Cas’.

Cas stares at him, narrow eyed and intense. ‘It sounded like a prayer.’ He says quietly. He slowly walks towards Dean, closing the space between them gradually but with determination.

Dean’s breath catches in his throat, he should move away but he is rooted to the spot.

The angel doesn’t stop until they are nose to nose and he can feel Dean’s breath on his face, the heat radiating from his damp skin. ‘I can still hear it now, it’s in your head. My name going round and round,’ Cas says, his voice rough and dangerously low.

Dean swallows hard, on the verge of chastising the angel for reading his mind but he doesn’t trust himself to speak at all.

‘It will all be alright Dean,’ Cas says firmly, reaching up to touch Dean’s face, drawing his thumb over the beads of water still clinging to his lips. Then all of a sudden Cas’ warm, chapped lips are on his and Dean is leaning in to it, opening his mouth hungrily, pushing his fingers into his Angel’s hair and he knows Cas is right.


End file.
